Omegle Presents: Harry Potter, a fan fiction
by doctor b. broseph
Summary: From the creator of "Omegle Presents: Destiel, a fan fiction" and the user-base of popular chat site, Omegle, comes the long awaited re-interpretation of the Harry Potter universe. (Warning: Contains possible spoilers for Game of Thrones/ A Song of Ice and Fire)
1. HP and the Omegle Chat Log

"_**Harry Potter and the Omegle Chat Log"**_

"You're a wizard, Harry," grunted the giant.

"Jon Snow dies at the end of book 5," Harry blurted out impishly, lips curled back into a unnervingly large grin.

"LOL THE FUCK" blurted out Dudley, who had been slinking at the back of the room, eyeing the cake the giant had placed in the corner of the room before advancing on Harry to inform him of his wizarding lineage.

"Wow," muttered Harry under his breath, "Okay man. Swag."

"Uhhhhh," began Hagrid nervously, obviously unhinged by the direction the conversation had taken.

"Harry who?" queried Uncle Vernon, who had just come down the stairs, toting a shotgun in his thick, burly arms. Aunt Petunia cowered behind him, using his considerable mass as a shield between herself and the giant downstairs.

"Harry Potter presumably," Harry replied before turning to face Hagrid, "Can I ask you something? What is your species' main weakness?"

"No."

"What?"

"No. No no no no no no no. Neil."

"Huh? Neil?" asked Harry inquisitively, "Who the hell is Neil?"

"Who the hell are you?" screamed Hagrid in retort; spit flying angrily from his hairy lips.

"I am your mother, Hagrid," smiled Harry, high-fiving Dudley on the sly.

"WHATS WITH THESE AWKWARD HARRY POTTER 'QUOTES'?" Hagrid screamed in frustration.

"FUCK YOU HAGRID!"

"Ạ̫̳̟̝̜̮̘̻͓̤̻̈ͮ̅̆͋̐l̘̟̠̭͕̼̜̙̗͌̏̿̈̄ͥͣ̉ͧ̂̈́̾ͦͅw̥̖͍͕̰͍̘̘͈̽ͫͭ̂̈́͌ͅa̩̞̖̤̦̠͔̖̬͈̳̋̃̉ͥ͆ͪ́̉͛ͮ̔̏ͫ̈́ͤ̓̚y͇̗͈̻̲̣͔̹̞̳͖̮̥̌ͫ̓̇̑ͤ͌ͣ͂̓̅ͭ͌͒ͅs̠̥̺͇̤͍̫͚̯͇̼̪͙ͬ͆ͪ́̿͌́͐ͅ ͔̗͚͈̞̳̤̺̯̻ͯ̐ͬ̌̾̏͂́̿̀̅̚̚ẇ̜̤͉̻̪̘̞̦̮̮̲͓͓̮͚̪̮̽͂ͪ̈́͆ͭ̂͛̚ͅa̟̞̗͇͆̃͑ͭ̍̋t̖̮̬̍͆ͨc̞͙̳͇̰͖̭̳̰̱̼̩͈̮ͣ̋̀͒̊̈̓̿̇̃͊ͯ̊ͬ̋̂ͪͅh͕͓͙̳̞̪ͤ̾̉̒̃̎̎ͬͤ͑̀ͦ̂̽e̯̯͉̯̭̖̓̏̉̎͌̍̓͛͐͑̚s͈͖̤͇̖̫̗̗̗͔͍̦͉̬͇̘̠͒ͨ̀̈̈́,̼͙̞̻̩̼̪̯͇͙̌̈̇ͪͪͮ̅̈́͑ ̣̞͚͚̰̼̪͍̦̼̻̙̼̣͖̦̤̥̯ͧ̄̒ͥ̉̈́̽ͨN͉͚͕̙̼̞͉̘̟̥̻̖̰͖ͩ͌ͦ͊͑̉̀ͮͅͅO̥̟̭̝̤̝̬̍ͪͩ͆̆͊ͫͤ́ ̼̬͚͓̼͖̼̝͓̝ͮ̐̒̔̃̓ͣ̉̌̏E͓̤͇͎̖̻̥̤̬̹̮̟̩̰̪̞̒̒ͧ̚Y̭͕̘̪͚̪̤̞̻̰ͪ̅̄ͬ͂ͨ̒̔̌̾͂̑ͯ̊͋ͧ̚É̮͎̬͎̜͍̩͇͍̘̒̇̐ͮS̝̫͔̼̜͇͎͉̬̻͇̝͍̻̖̥ͮ͐ͮͧ͗͊̉̔ͬ̆ͬͨ͌̀ͅ.̘̰͈͔͈̠̙̥̰͎̾̆͂ͫ̂̿ͩ̾ͭ̏ͭ̎̇͐ͧͅ" observed Aunt Petunia.

"So what brings you here anyway," asked Uncle Vernon, desperate to end the inane shouting match the giant's visit had ultimately descended into.

"Boredom," shrugged the giant who finally introduced himself as Hagrid, "All human acts are the cause of the will to feel good."

"Holy shit! What an inspiration!" scoffed Harry sardonically, while Dudley quietly inquired as to what the hell Hagrid was talking about.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"What an enlightment!" Harry gasped in mock-appreciation, sarcastically making his disdain for Hagrid's antics well known.

At this point, Hagrid had had enough of this pointless inanity and finally disconnected.

FIN


	2. HP and the Chamber of ASL

_**"Harry Potter and the Chamber of ASL"**_

Harry and Ron traded meaningful glances. The Polyjuice potion would only last a few more minutes, and they still had to interrogate Malfoy and find out whether or not he was the heir of Slytherin.

Draco stared at Harry a moment, momentarily performing a double take.

"Goyle, why are you wearing glasses?"

"COS I CAN SEE CREALY NOO" Harry blurted out, nerves overtaking his ability to form comprehensible language.

"Reading? I didn't know you could read," Malfoy replied, though he paused afterwards.

"what? i cant read your question" Harry stuttered, trying to regain composure.

"Hurr durr," chimed in Ron helpfully.

"nop." Malfoy replied.

"Hi," interjected Harry, hoping to restore some semblance of comraderie between the three.

"Nasty, oh poo!"

Malfoy was clearly not enjoying their performance. It was time for Ron and Harry to go all out.

"Dam," Ron smirked, "dat ass is phat."

Malfoy blushed.

"Cut that shit out you colossal maggot. The fuck kind of question is that anyway?"

Harry realised that this was the perfect segue into their questioning. Just in time too, it looked like Ron was beginning to turn ginger.

Time to get the information and blow the joint.

He just had to make sure he didn't blow it.

"Why don't unicorns exist?"

Nailed it.

FIN


	3. HP and the Prisoner of ASL-kaban

**_"Harry Potter and the Prisoner of A/S/L-kaban"_**

Four people were in the hospital wing. One was unconscious, Ronald Weasley who had broken his leg earlier that night.

The other three, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Albus Dumbledore were all very awake and conspiring in hushed tones.

Dumbledore was currently speaking and his words were sure to be highly important, informative and sensible.

"What we need," said Dumbledore slowly, and his light-blue eyes moved from Harry to Hermione, "is Nagini."

"Harry Potter-" began Hermione. And then her eyes became very round. "I don't even remember the others really."

She started laughing.

"Hahaha!"

"Or Luna," said Dumbledore, speaking very low and very clearly. "Or Professor Lupin. Or Snape. Or Moody."

Harry didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Justin Bieber!" gasped Hermione in a hoarse whisper. She grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him violently.

"Because he isn't real. BECAUSE HE IS NOT REAL!" she screamed, her tongue flailing around her mouth like a headless snake.

"Ok," Harry said slowly, "Really? Who would you date?"

"Yesss," hissed Dumbledore. He seemed pleased by these turn of events.

"Wait, I'm thinking," pondered Hermione, stroking her face where her beard would be, were she able to grow facial hair. "Logan Lerman from Perks of Being a Wallflower. Is that his name? I can never remember," she admitted.

Dumbledore whipped out his skateboard and popped a wheelie, speeding towards the door.

"I'm out. Peace bitches."

"Rad," smiled Hermione, admiring his sick skills. Dumbledore was really tearing up the hallway.

"Who would you date?" Harry repeated, as the door closed behind Dumbledore, who grinded the pipe on his way down the stairs so deliriously, you'd have thought the ghost of Tony Hawk had fused with his soul. Like a Horcrux type deal or whatever.

But that was ridiculous, like anyone could use a human as a Horcrux!

Hermione laughed off the idea, before answering Harry.

"I don't know."

Harry sighed.

"If I could die by doing so, then nothing."

Hermione blinked several times saying nothing. She then reached down her top and after fumbling around her breasts awhile, pulled out a Time Turner.

Despite having never seen one before in his life, Harry immediately recognised it as a time travel device. He shrugged off the knowledge, figuring he probably saw one in a Voldemort-scar vision before or something.

"Well…" said Hermione, "the hypothetical is too obscure."

"Make Justin Biebers parents use a condom," advised Harry.

"Does my changing the past affect the would be present?" Hermione wondered, staring deeply at the golden necklace she held in her dry, bookish hands.

"Yeah I guess so," Harry shrugged, lighting a cigarette.

He drew the smoke in deeply into his lungs, its warmth spreading down his throat and seeping through all the nooks and crannies of his respiratory system. Even now, the tumours were beginning to form, benign for now but sidling quietly towards malignance.

Give or take nineteen to twenty three years, and lung cancer would be a certainty.

"So if I were to teleport back to the past, would me altering a past event affect me? Chaos theory seems to point to that?"

Harry groaned.

"Shit I dunno. Time travel's fucking complicated. Just don't fuck shit up when you head back. Don't fuck your granny or anything, just fucking be cool."

* * *

J.K. Rowling cast a disapproving eye over the profanities spewing from Harry's mouth and then went back to her notes.

She was looking forward to publishing her sequel to _The Casual Vacancy_, which she had tentatively titled, 'A Stiff Hole.'

Just like the first book, it was going to be about a bunch of Muggles doing normal things and no magic was going to be involved at all.

Rowling only hoped her readers would like it better than the first, which most people had rated somewhere between 'okay I guess', 'disappointing if I'm really honest with myself' and 'the worst piece of trash J.K. Rowling has ever written since the Deathly Hallows epilogue.'

Rowling stretched her arms and set back to typing.

She was done with Harry. It was time to move on; she would write a new best-selling series.

Unfortunately for her, it seemed, Harry lived on.

The legend never dies. It is retold again and again in different forms and takes new shapes.

Presently it was taking the shape of Hermione fondling her Time Turner in a hospital wing...

* * *

"If I could go back in time," Hermione said, "I wouldnt fuark that."

"Start fapping at a younger age," smirked Harry. "That's what most people would do."

Hermione frowned.

"I would prevent my parents to conceive me."

Harry removed his cigarette, flicking the butt onto the hospital room floor. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't have liked that, but what Madam Pomfrey didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"I would not buy all of those ugly clothes."

Hermione smiled.

"I have so much shit," Harry scoffed, "I never wear. Because it's shit."

"I know that."

Harry nodded.

"Yup."

"We should find Jesus."

"Nah, we should tell Hitler how to avoid his defeat."

Hermione chuckled.

"Better keep you away from the DeLorean. No time travel for you, son."

Hermione began to twist the Time Turner around her neck. Harry watched her silently, his eyes drifting from the gold hourglass to her chest briefly.

"Good luck I guess."

Hermione shook her head.

"No. You saw this already, but it won't go away."

And with that, Hermione vanished into the past, leaving Harry alone in the room, with an unconscious Ron and the quiet rustle of the wind.

**To Be Continued...**


	4. HP and the Gobbling of Fire

"**Harry Potter and the Gobbling of Fire"**

Harry and Cedric stood panting in the maze, covered in mud, leaves and blood. Before them stood the Tri-Wizard Cup. The two exchanged significant glances.

"I think you're beautiful," smiled Cedric, placing a firm hand on Harry's shoulders.

"Stranger-chan… Why?"

"I can't say," smirked Cedric, "It's a secret."

Harry grinned, returning the gesture. "I used to watch Naruto when I was younger."

"Meeh. Never hung onto Naruto when I was younger."

"And Pokemon and Yu-Gi-Oh.. Do those count?" Harry asked, looking slightly concerned.

"Now you have my like. Here take this smile!"

Cedric flashed his pearly whites at Harry.

"I liked it but I was fairly young at the time. Hey thanks!" Harry replied.

He gestured towards the cup as if to say, 'let's both grab it together.' Cedric wordlessly agreed. The pair lunged forward together and grasped the cup.

The world swirled around the pair and they fell onto a grave.

The cup bounced downward, and the two groaned in pain.

Trying to get his bearings, Harry glanced upward. All around him he saw a littering of gravestones and a dark, cloaked figure approaching from the east.

"Good day to you stranger!" The cloaked figure said, drawing a wand from the shroud of his robe.

He pointed the robe at Cedric.

"Do gingers have souls?" The figure inquired.

"No," Harry said slowly and deliberately, "they aren't even people."

"I have no soul," came the reply.

"I eat the souls of babies," added Cedric, trying to seem intimidating. "Fun fact."

"But I'm not ginger," hissed the figure, his wand still pointed at Cedric.

Harry and Cedric looked at each other in a panic, beads of sweat rolling down their necks.

"Souls are overrated," hissed the figure, "They just cause trouble. So congrats."

Wordlessly he flicked his wand and a green jet erupted from the tip. It spurted forth, splattering upon contact with Cedric's face.

"No!" screamed Cedric.

"No!" screamed Harry.

"Yes!" ejaculated the stranger.

Cedric fell back wordlessly. His body was limp and his eyes went dark.

He was dead.

"No…" Harry exhaled quietly, barely a whisper from his lips.

"It was only a South Park joke."

Harry glared at the figure. "It's not about the joke. What are you playing at?"

The figure paused a moment before pointing his wand at Harry.

"Yellow is the colour." He flicked the wand, sending Harry hurtling back towards a gravestone, and pinning him against the statue of some long dead Muggle.

"Blue is the game." He twirled the wand, and the statue came alive. Its stony arms wrapped around Harry's chest keeping him pinned.

Harry stole a glance at the cup; it was lying a few yards beyond Cedric's body. Almost certainly beyond reach now.

The figure stepped forward, approaching Harry.

He pulled down his hood, revealing his face.

"Red's running down the walls," said Peter Pettigrew with a cruel smile.

Harry gasped.

"A/S/L?"

* * *

_3/N/D_


End file.
